The Seattle Grace Files
by sue-sylvester-shuffle
Summary: When two FBI agents are admitted to Seattle Grace with seemingly self-inflicted gunshot wounds, Bailey jumps into action to save them. However, she soon learns that there is more to their injuries than meets the eye. (SLIGHT SCULDER. DEREK/BAILEY FRIENDSHIP.)
1. Chapter 1

"No, no. Don't say that!"

"What? You wanted to know what I thought!"

"Not like _that!_ I mean, you like him, don't you?"

"He's _your_ boyfriend. _You're_ the one who's supposed to like him!"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Miranda Bailey stood a few paces ahead of her five interns, pretending she couldn't hear them bickering behind her. They had been standing outside the E.R. for ten minutes, waiting for the ambulance that was supposed to be arriving, and the interns had been chattering away for all ten of those minutes. Bailey would never hear the prefix 'Mc-' the same way ever again.

Just then, she heard the sound of ambulance sirens approaching in the distance. "Shh," Bailey hissed, putting up a hand to signal her interns to stop. "You can talk about your McDrama later. There's an ambulance coming now."

Sure enough, within a few moments, the ambulance drove in, flashing red and blue across the faces of the surgeons. A paramedic came out and opened up the back.

"What've we got?" Bailey asked, rushing over to him.

"Two FBI agents, late thirties, suffering from seemingly self-inflicted gunshot wounds," said the paramedic, wheeling out one of the stretchers. "A witness heard shots and found them lying in an alleyway. The man was having trouble breathing, so we had to intubate. I think the bullet may have punctured one of his lungs."

Bailey gripped the edge of the first stretcher, and looked down into the face of the person lying on it. It was a woman with red hair that was splayed out behind her head. There was blood soaking the front of her blazer, but her eyes were open and she seemed lucid.

"Not self-inflicted…" the woman was saying, gripping the side of the stretcher. "These… these wounds were _not_ self-inflicted. And… where's my partner…?"

"It's okay, ma'am. We've got him right here," Bailey told her.

The woman focused on Bailey's face. "I'm a doctor," she said. "I don't… don't think any of my organs were punctured. But… I don't know the extent of my partner's injuries… I didn't get a chance to check before I passed out…"

Bailey looked over at the other stretcher. Lying on it was a man with dark hair whose eyes were fluttering weakly. There was a tube protruding from between his lips, and a second paramedic was pressing on the attached bag to keep him breathing. "O'Malley, take over," she told her intern, who took the bag from the paramedic. The redheaded agent glanced over at the other stretcher, and extended a blood-spattered hand over to her partner. However, Alex moved around the side of the man's stretcher, blocking her path. "Let's get them inside," Bailey ordered, pushing the woman's stretcher inside.

Chief Webber was standing just inside the doors. "Chief, you can take this one," Bailey said, pointing at the stretcher with the intubated man on it.

"Got it," Webber replied, and took the edge of the stretcher. "Grey, O'Malley, Karev, you're with me. Yang, Stevens, go with Dr. Bailey."

The interns split into two groups. Bailey waved for Cristina and Izzie to follow her. As they pulled her stretcher away, the redheaded agent's eyes followed her partner, who was being taken away by Webber and the three interns. "Mulder…" she mumbled.

"It's going to be okay," Izzie reassured her, placing a hand overtop of the FBI agent's. "We'll update you on your partner's condition as soon as we can. But right now, we just need to focus on helping you. Okay?"

The agent opened her mouth as if to respond, but then her eyes began to flutter, and her head fell back, unconscious. "All right," Bailey told her two interns. "Let's pick up the pace."

* * *

As Bailey lay in bed that night, the two FBI agents were on her mind. Judging by the location and amount of damage the bullets had caused, Bailey would have to agree with the paramedic that they were self-inflicted. But the female FBI agent, whose badge identified her as Dana Scully, had seemed so concerned about her partner, Fox Mulder. If they had been planning a double suicide, as the evidence suggested, then why would she have been so worried about him afterwards? Had Scully changed her mind at some point during the process? Would they be a danger to themselves again? Bailey wasn't sure what to think.

She went to check on the two agents as soon as she got to work the next morning. In room 1402, Scully was awake and sitting up in bed. "Good morning, Ms. Scully. I'm Dr. Bailey. How are you feeling?" she asked. The redheaded agent looked up when she saw Bailey approach.

"Tired, but much better than yesterday," Scully said. "How did my surgery go?"

"It went just fine," Bailey told her. "You were right; none of your organs were punctured, so we were able to remove the bullet and stitch up your injuries."

"What about Mulder?" asked Scully.

"Your partner's surgery was a success as well," said Bailey. "The bullet that hit him did some damage to one of his lungs, but we were able to repair it. He's off intubation, and is doing just fine."

A look of relief spread across Scully's face. "Oh, thank God," she breathed. "Can I see him?"

"Well, he's still recuperating from his surgery. He isn't awake yet," Bailey said. "And… we'll be getting a psych consult for both of you as soon as he regains consciousness."

Scully's eyes widened. "A psych consult?" she repeated. "Why?"

"The injuries that you sustained made it very obvious that they were self-inflicted," Bailey said gently. "Put simply, you and your partner both shot yourselves."

"It wasn't quite as simple as that," Scully replied. She swallowed hard, and looked toward the door. "I wish Mulder were here. I won't be able to explain this as well as he could. But… I'll try."

Bailey sat down on the edge of the FBI agent's bed. "Alright, I'm listening."

Scully paused for a moment before saying, "Mulder and I… we did not consciously do this to ourselves. We were coerced, in a way. By this man." She reached over to her bedside table, where her freshly cleaned blazer was folded up along with a gold crucifix necklace and a photograph of a man. She picked up the photograph. "This man knows that Mulder and I are trying to put him in jail. That's why he coerced us into shooting ourselves. If he comes here looking for us, you cannot tell him where we are. And if he finds us… you cannot look him in the eye. Under _any_ circumstances. He's a telepath; that's how he uses his power."

Bailey took the photo that she handed to her and studied it. The man was pale, with close-shaven black hair. The look on his face sent chills up her spine. Still, what Scully was telling her was unbelievable. A man who could 'coerce' you into trying to kill yourself by just making eye contact with him? It seemed impossible.

"He caused the deaths of four teenagers. That's why Mulder and I were sent to investigate him," Scully went on. "I know you must think I'm insane. I would too, if I were you. But you have to trust me. I would never try to kill myself, and I would also never make up something like this." There was desperation in her blue eyes. Bailey pursed her lips.

"Ms. Scully…" she began. "I'll station a security guard to stand outside you and your partner's rooms. And do you mind if I take this photograph? I'll photocopy it and give it to all of the doctors around here so that they're familiar with the face."

Scully nodded, relief filling her face. "Thank you, Dr. Bailey."

Bailey smiled at her. "No problem, Ms. Scully. I want to do everything I can to keep you and your partner safe."

With that, she walked out of the room. On her way down to the main floor, she checked in on Scully's partner, Mulder, in the room next door. He was still asleep, chest rising and falling peacefully. Bailey walked over to him and peered down the front of his hospital gown at the bandages on his chest. "You," she said, "were lucky that the bullet missed your heart, because there is a woman in the other room who seems to be after it."


	2. Chapter 2

Being on the Chief of Surgery's good side had its perks. Bailey had asked Chief Webber to make an announcement over the intercom for all available doctors and nurses to gather in front of the nurses' station at 11:30. That had been a wise decision; at 11:25, the crowd had already formed. Bailey could pick her own interns out of the crowd, as well as Callie, Derek, a bored-looking Mark Sloan, and the Chief himself. The resident climbed up onto the counter so that she was visible to everyone. "Attention!" she called out. "This is an announcement that is _crucial_ for the wellbeing of two of our patients, two FBI agents who were admitted earlier today."

Immediately, whispers began to circulate throughout the crowd. Bailey crossed her arms, waiting for the chatter to die down. "Yes, yes, I _know_ that it's not every day we get FBI agents in our hospital," she said. "But two are here, and this man poses a real threat to them." Bailey waved the photograph at them. "I've photocopied the picture that the agent gave me, and each of you will be taking one with you when I'm finished talking so that you will recognize his face should he decide to show up here." She placed the pile of photocopies on the counter beside her. The crowd of doctors and nurses swarmed it. Just then, Bailey remembered something. "Oh, and one last thing," she added. "If you see this man, do _not_ look him in the eye. This is _important,_ people! Do _not_ make eye contact!"

Alex, who had been standing near Izzie and Cristina, snickered. "Why not?" he asked mockingly. "Something _scary_ will happen?"

Bailey shot him an icy glare. "Why _not?_ " she repeated. "Because I said so, Dr. Karev. And because a member of the _Federal Bureau of Investigation_ said so. According to one of our agents, he caused the deaths of four teenagers. So unless you want to add yourself to that list, I'd suggest listening to what I say."

This shut Alex up, and he shoved one of the photocopies into his pocket before storming away. As he did so, Derek emerged from the throng of people and offered Bailey a hand. "So who exactly is this man?" he inquired.

Bailey took his hand and climbed back down from the countertop. "Someone to avoid," she told him simply, and headed off toward her patients' rooms. Both agents were asleep. Bailey leaned up against the doorframe of room 1402 and pulled the photograph Scully had given her out of her pocket. The man's sinister face looked back at her.

"Don't you dare show your face here," she hissed.

* * *

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm looking for two patients that were admitted here earlier today."

Bailey looked up from the files she was leafing through. Across the lobby, she could see Derek having a conversation with another man. The other man was facing away from Bailey, but he turned slightly to look around the lobby, and Bailey caught a quick glimpse of his face. Fear tore through her, cold and harrowing. It was the man from Scully's photograph, and Derek was smiling vapidly at him. Even from far away, she could tell that something was very wrong. Heart pounding in her chest, Bailey put down the files and began to move carefully toward the two men.

"What are their names?" Derek asked the man.

"Fox Mulder and Dana Scully."

"Ah, the FBI agents. They are in rooms 1402 and 1403," Derek told him.

A chilling smile spread across the man's face. "Thank you," he said, and headed off toward the elevator. As soon as he was gone, Bailey raced over and grabbed Derek by the front of his scrubs.

"Shepherd!" she snapped, shaking her colleague. "What were you _thinking?_ That was the man that the FBI agent told us not to let in!"

Derek was still smiling vapidly, but his vision began to focus in on Bailey. "Dr. Bailey," he said finally. "Where did you come from?"

Bailey let go of Derek's scrubs. " _What?_ "

A crease appeared between the neurosurgeon's eyebrows. "What just happened?" he asked. "You look upset."

Bailey's mind was racing. In that moment, Scully's words came back to her, " _We did not consciously do this to ourselves. We were coerced, in a way. By this man._ " Could he have just 'coerced' Derek to tell him where the agents were?

"You looked him in the eye, didn't you?" she said.

Derek went pale. "I didn't mean to."

"Too late for that now. Come with me," Bailey hissed, and broke into a run toward the elevator. Derek ran after her. The man from the photograph smiled sinisterly at them as the elevator doors closed. Derek put out his foot to try and keep them open, but it was too late.

"Damn it," he hissed, and kicked the closed doors. " _Damn it!_ "

"The stairs," Bailey said, and they both turned around. They ran up the stairs together, Bailey taking them two at a time to keep up with Derek's longer legs. Just as they were about to reach Mulder and Scully's rooms, a gunshot rang out. Several people in nearby rooms screamed; one of the screams sounded like Scully. As Bailey and Derek stood in stunned silence, a man in a wheelchair careened out of room 1403. It was Mulder, the male FBI agent with dark hair. "Scully!" he called out, wheeling himself desperately toward his partner's hospital room.

"Come on," hissed Derek, following Mulder. Bailey rushed after him. When they entered room 1402, they were immediately greeted with a horrifying sight; the security guard who had been stationed outside was lying on the floor, copious amounts of blood pooling around his head. His holster was undone, and his gun was on the floor next to his hand. Scully was out of bed, standing beside Mulder in his wheelchair. The man from the photograph was standing over the security guard's body, a smug look on his face.

"My God!" Bailey cried out, dropping to the floor next to the security guard. She took his blood-soaked head in her hands and turned it over. The source of the blood gushing out was from a hole on one temple, on the opposite side as the hand with the gun. Bailey's heart jumped into her throat. It was a self-inflicted gunshot wound, just like the ones Mulder and Scully had. She let go of the security guard's head and looked up at the man from the photograph. _What are you capable of?_ she thought.

"Get that gun out of here before anyone else gets hurt!" Mulder yelled, pointing at the gun beside the security guard's hand. "And _don't_ make eye contact!"

Bailey reached over and picked up the gun. However, the man from the photograph crouched down beside her and put one cold hand under her chin. "Up here," he whispered. Bailey shut her eyes. Immediately, she felt the same cold hand slap her hard across the face. Her cheek stung.

" _Hey!_ " exclaimed Derek, and the man's hand disappeared from under Bailey's chin. Tentatively, she opened her eyes to see that Derek had pushed the man away from her. Taking advantage of the fact that Derek had his eyes shut, the man from the photograph shoved him into the bedside table. As Bailey looked on, he turned toward her, and she immediately began to feel… _empty._

Things were hazy. She blinked. Once, twice, three times. Her hands were slippery; she felt them moving, felt her finger toying with something. A hard loop. She could hear voices. A woman's, maybe? And a man's… a familiar sounding man's voice. He said her name, but she couldn't focus on it enough to keep listening. That didn't matter. Things were comfortable. Soft. She raised her arm, finger tugging again at the hard loop.

Just then, something slammed into her, throwing her to the floor. Another gunshot rang out. Bailey's head was spinning; she felt as if she had just woken up from a long sleep. She blinked to focus her vision, and found that she was on the floor with Derek on top of her. The ground was wet under Bailey's back; she looked down to see that they were in the rapidly growing pool of blood around the security guard's body. The gun was lying a few feet away from them, a thin wisp of smoke trailing up from its end. There was a bullet embedded in the ceiling.

"What happened?" Bailey asked breathlessly.

"You tried to shoot one of the FBI agents. I had to take you down," Derek told her. "You were… it was like you were in a trance or something. Is that what happened to me?"

Bailey nodded. Just then, there was a loud _thud_ from behind them. Bailey pushed Derek off of her to see Scully standing up on her bed, eyes shut tightly, holding an empty vase in her hands. The man from the photograph was lying on the floor, beads of blood welling up at his hairline where Scully had hit him over the head. "He's out," she panted. "Cover his eyes with something, just in case."

Derek stood up, and Bailey winced at the security guard's blood that was splattered over the front of his scrubs. He pulled a roll of bandages off of a nearby shelf and wound it around the man's eyes. It was then that Bailey noticed red spots on the front of Scully's hospital gown. "Turn around," she ordered Derek and Mulder as she went over to the redheaded agent. Once they were both looking away, Bailey pulled the gown up to find blood seeping through the bandages covering Scully's scars. "You've torn your stitches," she told her.

"Sorry," said Scully. "But someone had to knock him out."

Bailey nodded. "You're right. Somebody did." She took Scully by the arm and helped her off of the bed. "Now… can you explain to me exactly how that happened? How that man controlled me like that?"

"Through eye contact," Mulder answered, standing up out of his wheelchair and offering it to Scully. "Somehow, he is able to take advantage of the human body's psychological reaction to eye contact, and uses it to control people."

Derek sighed, shaking his head. "I'm a neurosurgeon. I work with the human brain on a daily basis. And I've never heard of anything like this."

"I'm not surprised to hear that," replied Scully, sitting down in the wheelchair. "Before I entered this line of work, I had never heard of anything like this either."

Just then, there was a clatter of footsteps from outside. She turned around to see Chief Webber at the door, with all five of Bailey's interns at his heels. "What in the _world_ happened here?!" shouted the Chief, looking down at the security guard's body surrounded by blood, and the blindfolded man lying beside him.

"Whoa," said George.

"Derek!" cried Meredith.

"Damn it! Why couldn't I have been on this case?" Cristina whined.

"Shut up," snapped Webber, and turned back to Derek and Bailey. "Are you two alright?"

"We're fine, Chief. The blood's not ours," Derek told him, looking down at his scrubs.

Webber breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he whispered. "What happened to this security guard? And… is this the man you warned us about, Dr. Bailey?"

"I think you just answered your own question, sir," Bailey said.

The Chief was silent for a moment.

"Shepherd, Bailey, go get yourselves cleaned up. And you five," he added, looking at Bailey's interns, "I need you to get this security guard down to the O.R. as quickly as you can."

"Sir, if you don't mind, I need one of my interns to redo Ms. Scully's stitches," Bailey said.

Webber nodded. "All right. Stevens, go with Ms. Scully. The rest of you, go. _Now._ "

Scully stood up, offering the interns the wheelchair. Alex and George propped the security guard in it, and the four of them pushed it down the hallway at breakneck speed. Their shoes and the wheels of the wheelchair left bloody tracks behind them.

Izzie offered her arm to Scully for support, but Mulder was already half-carrying her. "I've got this," he told the blonde intern, who smiled and led them out of the room. More bloody footprints.

"What should we do with this man, sir?" Derek asked, pointing at the unconscious, blindfolded man on the ground. "Making eye contact with him is extremely dangerous. He needs to be properly restrained."

"I'll deal with him," Webber told him. "You two go and get out of those bloody scrubs."

Bailey nodded. "Will do, sir." With Derek at her side, she walked out of room 1402, stepping over the puddle of blood as she did so. There were enough bloody footprints in the hallway already.

The two surgeons walked in silence for a minute before Derek cleared his throat and said, "Listen, Miranda, I'm sorry." His shoes squelched as he walked. "I tackled you to the ground. Are you hurt?"

"No," Bailey responded. "But those FBI agents would have been if you hadn't done that. So don't apologize."

All of a sudden, Derek stopped, shaking his head. "I just don't understand how he was able to control us like that," he sighed. "I wouldn't have believed it if it hadn't happened to me… and if I hadn't seen it happen to you."

Bailey nodded slowly. "It was damn crazy, wasn't it," she said. "But then again, crazy things happen in medicine all the time. Sometimes patients live when every sign points to them dying. Sometimes tumours appear or disappear on a whim. And, I suppose, sometimes the brain can mutate to the point of being capable of mind control." She paused for a moment, as Derek blinked back at her, and then they both laughed.

"You're going to have quite the story to tell your son tonight," remarked Derek.

"Oh, no, not until he's at least fourteen," Bailey replied, eyes wide. "He's far too young to be scared every time he looks into someone's eyes."

"Fair enough."

* * *

"All right, then. That's all we need from you," Bailey told the FBI agents, taking the discharge papers that they offered her. "Good luck, you two."

"Thank you," responded Scully.

"I feel like I owe you an apology," said Derek, who was standing next to Bailey. "For letting that man in."

"No, no," Mulder responded. "You had no control over that. If anything, we should be sorry. You got involved in all this when you really didn't deserve that."

"I'm just glad you two are safe," said Bailey. She paused for a moment as an image flashed through her head of the two agents when they were first admitted. Lying on stretchers, terrified, and covered in blood. "That man…" she continued tentatively.

"Yes?"

"Will the police really be able to detain him?" Bailey asked. "I mean, with that… ability of his?"

"They'll find a way," Scully told her. "They're aware of the extent of his power, and they will be doing whatever is necessary to keep him locked up. Don't worry, Dr. Bailey. Seattle Grace will be safe, and so will Mulder and I."

Bailey smiled. "Thank you, Ms. Scully."

"Good luck on all of your future cases," Derek said.

"You too," Mulder replied. He looked down at his partner. "Scully, are you ready to go?"

Scully nodded. "All right. Goodbye, doctors." With that, she and Mulder turned around and walked toward the front doors of Seattle Grace. Once they were gone, Derek looked down at Bailey. "I don't think I'd be able to handle that job," he remarked.

"You handle this one just fine," Bailey told him.

"Well, Dr. Bailey, people don't usually use mind control in this job."

Bailey laughed. "No, they don't. I'm glad about that, because I think that'd make surgery a hell of a lot harder."

A grin spread across Derek's face. "Me too, Dr. Bailey. Me too."

end


End file.
